An urban sensibility of indifference and ennui expressed powerfully, by Prasanna, in this poem, exclusively for Different Truths.
Yes, the days may take off being fastest on the wheels of times, The spools of technology may alter with new lace of advancements, Yet, what’s good, is being done Racing is people’s mind with no sleeping zipping and zooming surfing and turfing Sliding and touching the screens of smart machines, still the screams of bombing rumbling tempest of crying, Scratching and plucking hairs on the head in the delirium - calling., There is no end of killings Shooting at schools universities and sites of learning, Heading where to - Is a question still to be pondered, Who is getting benefited, Who is being affected, Whose gain it is, whose loss, Who cares? Selfish tantrums blood in doldrums some happy confining themselves within four walls, Turning ACs of pride, The very call for a truce reckoning and beckoning for environmental measures, Much of happiness, marred by mentalities, Fatalities surviving at egos, Who cares? Will there be an end to this?
Picture design by Anumita Roy, Different Truths
Well written ji. Touching